


Heist

by Lacertae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Double Penetration in Two Holes, Flirting, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Mission Fic, Omnics, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Seduction, Size Kink, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 18:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: *B.O.B./Bars/Zenyatta* Written for Kinktober 2019 day 13 - threesome





	Heist

**Author's Note:**

> prompt and ship given by Nichirin!

**Heist**

Bars usually dislikes places that are too loud.

Pubs are annoying, far too many people drinking and yelling and singing, when all he wants is to nurse a glass of good oil and just chill. Unfortunately, among his fellows, he’s the only one who thinks this –Terran and Zeke are the first to jump in the crowd, after all.

Tonight is no different, but at least Bars knows this time it’s for a mission, and he’s not just wasting one of his rare free nights watching P.T get drunk and wobble and screech with his pants down in front of a scandalized waiter.

Mistress Ashe instructed them on what to do, and for once, Bars is not just relegated to being an observer. He doesn’t mind –he’s a sniper, you ought to be good at looking– but sometimes he itches for something more direct. Much to Mistress’ disappointment, she can’t have B.O.B. be by her side –she’s courting danger, tonight, flirting with their target. She plans to get him drunk, steal his hotel card and then keep him busy until he’s knocked out. Bars and B.O.B. will wait in the pub, disguised as normal patrons, grab the hotel key from her and wait for an hour while she drives the drunk target somewhere and drops him on the side of the road to sleep his intoxication away. If she had such a big bodyguard at her side, no one would dare relax and underestimate her.

The guy’s worth _millions_, and they’ve been planning this for _weeks_, getting his hover-car to break down while passing in their territory, making sure no mechanic will come to fix it until Monday at least.

All they have to do is get his key, hack into his terminal through the laptop he’s got in his room, and bank on the money.

Things go down without a problem. Bars watches the target down his second bottle of scotch, and he’s barely standing, and his optical receptors follow Mistress’ hand as it slips into his inner pocket, so quickly no one else sees, and grabs his hotel card, then makes a scene of tugging the man up, flirting and acting drunk, and starts to lead him out of the pub.

As Mistress passes by his side, he makes sure to stretch, acting like he’s not looking, and Mistress passes him the card key, which he slips inside the pocket on the front of his shirt.

He does not watch as she stumbles out of the pub –outside, the rest of their team is waiting to drive the poor fucker far from the pub, enough he won’t have an easy time coming back to his hotel, giving them enough time to make themselves scarce.

They’re done –and now Bars has around an hour to waste until Mistress calls him for the rest of the plan.

He sips on the oil and rubs one index on the glass before looking away, just staring at the other patrons… and he notices that B.O.B., up in his corner, is not as alone as he’d been before.

There’s a short omnic standing near him, lithe and dressed down enough that Bars catches the pretty view of his spine nodules peek from the hem of his shirt, pistons and wires exposed to the sight. Vulnerable, but also extremely enticing.

Bars’ optical receptors move up his frame, noticing the thin waist, the naked shoulders, the exposed neck pistons, and the soft, delicate features of his faceplate, his forehead array LEDs flashing a deep teal.

Oh, that omnic is _hot_ –and Bars is startled to realise he’s talking with B.O.B., who seems to shrink a little, shoulders lifting enough that he appears almost shy, or embarrassed, and Bars’ entire attention turns to the sight, his forehead array flashing in amusement.

So that little, lithe thing is flirting with B.O.B., huh? That omnic must like his picks _big_.

As he watches, the omnic tugs listlessly at the shirts he wears, almost looking coy, or perhaps it’s just a reflex, but Bars follows the gesture and catches on the tight pants the omnic is wearing, how the gesture seems to lead his attention to his shapely legs.

He’s doing it on purpose, that little thing, and B.O.B. straightens up a little, intrigued by whatever the omnic is telling him.

The omnic isn’t really small, now that he looks better. It’s just B.O.B. who makes anyone else feel small… and perhaps that’s part of the allure. Bars knows, since he’s taken advantage of B.O.B. more than once… as he should. B.O.B. is _his_. Officially, he belongs to Mistress, but… Bars knows pretty well that B.O.B. isn’t fucking _her_.

Still, the way B.O.B. holds himself, his full attention on the other omnic… Bars knows there’s interest there, and Bars would lie if he were to say he wasn’t interested in the outcome.

That smoking hot omnic would look good, perched on top of B.O.B.’s fat cock, and if he’s reading the atmosphere correctly, that omnic’s intention is to get exactly there.

Bars downs the last of his oil, the aftertaste burning down his intake chamber, and stands up, metal joints creaking –he really needs to get a clean-up soon– and checks the time. They have time before they have to go, and what better use of that time than to get down and dirty with a hot lil’ babe?

As Bars makes his way towards the two, he watches the omnic lift one hand to touch B.O.B.’s arm, where his bulging metal mimics straining muscles, and Bars leers when B.O.B.’s vents exhale a gush of steam; the omnic shifts closer, just enough to take B.O.B.’s hand in his own and guide it to his own frame, making it trail down slowly…

“I see you like my friend,” Bars croaks out, and the omnic jumps and looks at him, though he does not let go of B.O.B.’s hand. “Good taste you got, hmm?”

“Forgive me,” the omnic murmurs, sounding hesitant, and he finally drops B.O.B.’s hand. “I did not know he was taken.”

“Nah,” he drawls, steps by B.O.B.’s side, and elbows him. To his credit, B.O.B. gets what he wants, because his big hand finishes the motion and palms the curve of the omnic’s modesty panel, making him jump. “That big clump o’ metal knows he’s mine, but that don’t mean we can’t fool around. And you…” he makes a good show of looking at him “… are such a pretty little thing.”

He watches as the omnic’s optical receptors zoom on him, from head to toes, taking him in. Bars feels a jolt of satisfaction when it’s clear the omnic likes what he sees, because he turns a little towards him, considering, even with B.O.B.’s hand still on him.

“Does that work for both of you, then?” he asks, and that sultry tilt of his head only makes him hotter. “I would not mind doubling up my winning bet…”

This close, Bars knows his assessment was right –this omnic’s faceplate is soft and curvy, and his lithe frame covered in such revealing clothes leaves little to the imagination. He’s also a bit taller than Bars himself, which is unfortunate, but also really hot.

Bars likes to get them to kneel for him and take what he dishes out.

“We could come to an, ah, arrangement,” Bars purrs, optical receptors zooming on the omnic. “What’s your ID, pretty thing?”

“I’m Zen,” he says, and leans forwards a lit, offering Bars a good view of his uncovered neck. All those pretty circuits and wires just beg to be tugged. “And you are…?”

“Name’s Bars,” he says, then pats on B.O.B.’s other arm amicably. “And this big lump here is B.O.B..” Startled by the sound of his name, B.O.B.’s optical receptors blink, but his hand remains steady on Zen’s body. It is obvious he’s made his choice already.

“He’s… quiet,” Zen answers, but the way he says it sounds almost like he’s implying something. “I bet I could change that.”

Oh, yes. This omnic’s really in for the big prize. “It would take some work,” Bars tells him, and can’t help but add his own challenge, “‘specially for such a little thing like you are.”

“You should not underestimate me,” Zen replies, and Bars pushes closer, sensors registering the clean smell of the other omnic’s metal. “I can _take_ a challenge.”

Bars moves forwards, and the omnic stumbles back a little, until he hits the wall, right by B.O.B.’s side, and Bars presses into him, flush enough he only has to look up a little to catch those slanted optical receptors with his own round ones. He wastes no time, sliding one hand under Zen’s shirt to wriggle his fingers right into some of those exposed wires, making him jump. “I’ll take your word on it, pretty thing.”

***

“Ah–”

It’s good to know Bars is always right –that pretty thing called Zen really does look hot, spread on B.O.B.’s cock.

They’ve moved outside, in the back, and it’s dark and cold enough they’re left alone.

B.O.B. sits on a table, legs spread open, and his cock is halfway into Zen as he moves slowly on top of him, hips almost shaking as he takes him inside inch by inch, his swollen, leaking valve sucking in that cock like it’s made for it.

His lithe shoulders shake, chest heaving with strain, and Bars is glad they’ve undressed him fully –every inch of him is beautiful, and it’d be a waste to see him get fucked with clothes on.

There’s marks on him already, from Bars’ pointed fingertips scratching his metal to B.O.B.’s hands leaving slight imprints, even if he’s being gentle, but it seems every touch makes Zen even more into it.

“C’mon,” Bars murmurs, captivated by the sight. “There’s still more to take…”

He’s taking his time, inch by inch, like he can barely fit all of that cock inside himself, but Bars sees the way B.O.B.’s vents steam, and thinks that maybe, possibly, Zen might be doing it on purpose.

Zen arches his back and gasps, his valve clenching down around B.O.B.’s length, his own prosthetic cock leaking slick on the ground, but his hips gyrate and push down and B.O.B. makes a soft, strangled noise when Zen’s hand slides between his parted legs, teasing sensors in his inner thighs.

Bars’ synth crackles at the sight, surprised to see how little it took B.O.B. to start to get vocal.

Maybe Zen’s better than he thought.

Still, he’s the one overwhelmed, because when he finally sits down on B.O.B.’s lap, Zen is trembling, and it takes him a few seconds before he can start grinding down, stretched so wide he’s having a hard time moving.

The view, the little sounds –Bars is captivated, and he cannot look away, optical receptors watching in greed as Zen lifts off, thighs straining, and then he falls back on B.O.B.’s cock, moaning loud enough his synth cracks with white noise.

Bars takes another step closer and Zen gives him a look, tilting his head to the side coyly, and lifts himself up so slowly B.O.B. twitches and steams again, synth vibrating in a low hum.

Yes, he’s definitely doing it on purpose.

When he moves again, up and down, the pace faster than before, B.O.B. chirps out loud, a stuttered noise that he silences right away, and Zen echoes it with his own sounds.

“Shit,” Bars takes a step forwards, hands twitching and cock burning inside his pants, “you sure look pretty–”

Zen makes a soft, embarrassed noise, and the bead of precum on his cock makes Bars feel special, alright.

“You like it when I call you pretty, huh?”

Zen arches his back, exposing his body to him, and his movements grow a little more frantic, grinding down on B.O.B.’s lap so hard his cock makes wet, lewd sounds as it slides inside him.

His hands slip on B.O.B.’s thighs, still doing their best to get B.O.B. to react, but it is clear he’s overwhelmed, and Bars heats up, processes all focused on the view.

He wants in, and he wants in right _now_.

“Hey, pretty thing,” he says as he unlatches his pants to reveal his own cock, “you got a functioning mouthpiece there?”

Zen seems to hesitate, halting his rhythm, and B.O.B. thrusts up a little to get him to move again –so Bars is treated to the sight of Zen bouncing on his cock, a startled moan coming from his synth when B.O.B. holds his hips and takes control, guiding Zen up and then shoving him down on his waiting cock.

“Ah–!”

B.O.B. might be quiet, but he’s not very patient.

With B.O.B. taking control, using Zen like this, Bars has to wait a little, watching as more slick dribbles out from the tip of Zen’s cock and from his valve, little choked gasps the only sounds he can make with that cock fucking into him.

Bars lets B.O.B. continue long enough to watch Zen’s forehead array dim, processes too much for the fucking, before he whistles, sharply, and B.O.B. freezes, cock halfway into Zen.

“B.O.B., give ‘im a moment, will ya? Poor thing can’t even _think_,” he scolds, but he’s leering even as he says that, forehead array burning in a sly grin.

Zen is still trembling, from arms to thighs, and his hips try to push down to take B.O.B.’s cock into him again, desperate for some friction, but when nothing happens and B.O.B. keeps him from moving, he seems to focus on Bars again.

Good, pretty lil’ omnic needs to know who’s the boss, here.

“I…”

“Mouthpiece, darling?” Bars reminds him.

“Y-yes, but I have… ah… I haven’t used that in…” Zen strains against B.O.B.’s hold, and Bars would coo at how embarrassed he looks, if he wasn’t more interested in getting some attention too.

His cock is aching, and he doesn’t want to wait for sloppy seconds to get his fill. After all, Zen’s got such a pretty faceplate…

Even better, if he doesn’t use it much.

More _sensitive_, and he wants to have part in wrecking this bot.

Zen has no time to say anything, because B.O.B. stands up, with him still in his lap, and spins them around, pressing Zen’s front against the table, shallowly fucking into him as Zen fumbles and holds on the table with both hands, whimpering when B.O.B.’s cock slides into him with a much better angle.

Bars rounds the table, slowly, and presents himself to Zen, rubbing the tip of his cock against the side of his faceplate.

He has to admit, he’s really into this –his cock is leaking lube already, green translucent slick leaving a streak right on Zen’s faceplate.

Shit, he looks hot, like this.

“Ready for some more fun, pretty thing?” he murmurs, and caresses the top of Zen’s head, rubbing the sensors on the nape of his neck. “We’ll get u wrecked n’ fucked out alright…”

Zen gasps, and his mouthpiece depressurizes and falls open, slowly, even as he nudges into Bars’ cock, so eager to take it in that he misses it twice before finally swallowing it down.

With a loud, startled curse, Bars snaps his hips and fucks into his intake chamber, groaning at how tight and hot it feels around his sensors, cock burning with pleasure.

The strangled, muffled moan that leaves Zen’s synth is music, and so are the wet, loud slaps of B.O.B.’s hips as he starts fucking Zen in earnest, pushing him into Bars and forcing him to swallow down his cock to the base.

Zen moans again, even louder, and his fingers dig into the table for purchase as B.O.B. thrusts into him again, so hard Zen arches up, but Bars fucks into him as well, keeping him down, and the moans turn into sobs as Zen comes, teal slick spilling all over the table.

“Shit, did you just come already?” Bars purrs, and Zen’s synth cracks and breaks down, forehead array blinking unsteadily. “Just because of that? You really love getting fucked hard, huh?”

Slick drips out of his mouthpiece to stain his chin, and Bars curses again when he feels Zen’s intake chamber clamp down on his cock, as if to agree with him.

“D’you want more, pretty thing?” he coos, and grabs his chin, keeping him steady.

Zen chirps, and behind him, B.O.B.’s synth makes another deep sound.

Bars looks up at him, their optical receptors meeting. “He that good, big guy?”

B.O.B. nods, and one of his hands slides underneath Zen’s body to grab his cock, stroking it gently, mindless of the way Zen jerks into the touch –he’s stuck between them now, and they don’t plan on letting him go anytime soon.

“Then be a good darlin’ for us, Zen,” Bars looks down, caressing the edge of his mouthpiece where his cock disappears into his intake chamber. “And keep coming until I say so.”

When they start fucking him in earnest, Zen’s screams are loud enough to make Bars proud.

***

Stretching idly, Bars elbows B.O.B.’s side, and the taller omnic peeks down at him.

They’ve both depleted their reserves of lube, and neither seem to mind, considering where they’ve gone –right into that pretty little omnic they’ve fucked until he could barely stand.

Maybe it was bad to leave him out of the pub, barely helping him dress, still full with their lubrication and dazed out of his mind, but he’d looked so pretty, Bars couldn’t really help himself.

Well, that and the fact that they need to be ready for when Mistress calls for them.

“Had a good fuck, hmm?” Bars elbows him again, and B.O.B. gives him a stern glare, though he steams again. “Too bad we couldn’t take our time, pretty lil’ thing looked like he’d break, but he still took all of that big cock of yours.”

B.O.B. makes another sound with his synth, embarrassed but pleased –it’s rare he gets this much fun. People –and omnics– are intimidated by his size more than aroused, and not everyone is like Bars.

“Wish I’d gotten his number,” Bars continues, then shrugs. “Oh well. Good as it was, it’s time for work!”

He pats on his pocket, where the hotel card is, and digs into it to take it out.

He freezes when, instead of the card, what he tugs out of his pocket is a folded piece of paper. “What the fu–”

Inside, a simple message written in a careful, tidy handwriting, mocking him as his fingers dig into B.O.B.’s side, his forehead array burning brightly in rage–

_‘Thank you for the fun, and for making our mission that much easier. Overwatch is in your debt._

_I would be pleased to see you again, in much better circumstances –but as I am sure you know, a mission is a mission._

_– Zen_

_Ps – Jesse says hello!’_

“That fucker–!”


End file.
